I'm Working
by Simon920
Summary: Robin accompanies Garth on a forced trip back to Atlantis. Supergirl is along as well and the whole thing is loosely, very loosely, based on a canon story from about forty years ago. Needless to say, trouble ensues. The conclusion is now posted.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

About forty years ago there was a canon Supergirl story where she takes a classroom of college students down to Atlantis and has Lori Lemaras (or however you spell it) give them an up close and personal tour/lecture about marine biology so they can ace the class. In this variation, Garth is sucked into it instead—with complications, of course, including Robin (Dick Grayson) who is along for the ride, as well. And apologies to Dr. Robert Ballard. I don't know the man, hold him in tremendous respect and hope—in the unlikely event that he ever sees this or I meet him—that he takes this in the harmless good spirit it's intended.

And I know I'm messing up canon and history here but this is my story, so I figure I'm allowed.

**I'm Working…**

**Part One**

"This is going to be totally awesome. I swear to God."

"Studying Marine Biology in friggin Atlantis? Unbelievable. Friggin Wood's Hole spent three years trying to get permission from the State Department or something and even their rep was saying on C-Span that it was all messed up with red tape."

"One call from Supergirl and we're there, I am so totally psyched for this."

"They said we might get an actual Atlantean biologist as a guide."

"Yeah, well, they also said they hardly have anyone who speaks English so don't hold your breath."

The twenty students were in the mobile classroom with large portholes arranged around the round walls, floor and ceiling of the special deep sea submersible they'd been allowed to borrow for a couple of days from the US Navy and specially refitted by Supergirl to allow the students to use it as a combination classroom and dorm for the couple of days the trip was expected to last. Supergirl had specially reinforced it for extreme depths beyond its previous limits and the whole trip was being touted as a diplomatic breakthrough between the surface and notoriously xenophobic Atlantis. It was being compared to Nixon's Ping-Pong diplomacy, which had been the first crack in the wall with China thirty-five years before.

The twenty hand picked students, along with Supergirl, loaded into the sub; seated and seat-belted, they were ready to go. There was food on board and even a small airplane-like bathroom. Blankets and cot mattresses had been stored as well, though everyone expected to be too excited to sleep. The students were mainly undergrads with a few grad students thrown in the mix. The whole thing had been in the planning stages for less than a month but—unknown to the kids on board—Supergirl was a student at Stanhope College just like they were and all it had taken was her direct call to King Orin/Aquaman/Arthur (take your choice) to get his permission and a single conference call from him to the presidents of both the school and the United States to set the wheels in motion. Amazing what contacts can do and the King had one of his rare soft spots for Supergirl, or Kara, as her friends called her. He simply had always liked the girl and was glad to help—fully aware that it wouldn't hurt his own image on the surface as well.

"Okay, we have to make a stop to pick up our guides so everyone just relax for a few minutes until we get there." The machine started moving, the unseen pilot in a closed cockpit in the cramped lower level. The kids talked excitedly among themselves, flirted a little and looked out the portholes to the water passing quickly, the sun glinting off the surface as they moved across the Atlantic at more than jet speed. They'd be wherever they were going soon.

About twenty minutes later they began to slow, evidently headed for a ship fast approaching on the horizon. It looked like a medium sized freighter, though cleaner than those usually are and evidently at anchor somewhere in the middle of the ocean with no land to be seen on any side. "He's doing some research out here for the summer, but when the permission came through for us, he agreed to come along and act as guide." He? The students almost swallowed their collective gum at the nonchalant statement followed by the emergence of Robert Ballard from the ship's pilothouse, but tried for cool. Okay, he wasn't an Atlantean, but he sure wasn't chopped liver. Setting down on the ship's helicopter pad, Kara popped the hatch and stepped out on the deck.

A brief conversation with some curious crewmen from the ship and Kara stuck her head back in. "He'll be a few minutes 'cause they're in the middle of something, so c'mon out and stretch your legs while you can—just don't touch anything or get in the way, okay?" Next she knocked on the door to the cockpit, when it opened and their pilot unfolded himself from the small space the students made another effort at cool. Their pilot was Robin, wearing an old pair of jeans, a tee shirt and his mask. Kara asked him if he was all right, he nodded and got himself a bottled water from a cooler then distanced himself, standing about twenty feet away, casually looking around the ship. The buzz from the kids was excited and a little too loud, both Ballard, who was working and Robin, who was relaxing, ignored them.

The decks of the ship were obviously working areas with various crewmen and researchers going about their business—focused and casting mildly curious looks at the students without stopping whatever they were doing. A very large spool on the stern—at least eight feet in diameter, was rolling in some heavy cable from God knew how deep. The surface, though calm, was that deep green verging on black you only see when the bottom is so far down you couldn't imagine it.

There were a couple of zodiac boats in the water around the ship positioned near where the cable disappeared and a few men in wet suits looked ready to help whatever they were pulling up as soon as it appeared on the surface. Derrick arms were swung out over the stern to lift whatever it was aboard.

The crew seemed tense, as if they were afraid something was wrong or maybe just not completely right. What little talk was terse and to the point.

The students stayed back but watched what was going on, saying little and then only in hushed voices. A few took pictures. The crew paid them no attention, too busy to be bothered with tourists.

Suddenly two divers surfaced next to the stern and, ignoring the small support boats or crewmen, pulled themselves up onto the dive platform at the stern. Moving quickly, they took a second cable reel and hook from a reserve spool that was mounted and ready to go. Manipulating some controls and moving fast, the two men released the lock on the second spool, allowing it to unreel as the men disappeared back over the side and underwater with the end—all in under thirty seconds and without saying a word. The frayed and broken end of the first cable broke the surface less than a minute later, talk from the deckhands let them know the second cable had been secured and whatever the ship had underwater was still in place.

One of the college girls noticed and touched the arm of the girl beside her. "Hey, those guys weren't wearing tanks."

"Sure they were, they must have been—they just left them in the boats or something."

"No they didn't."

Supergirl, standing nearby, cleared it up. "Those two guys are Atlanteans."

A few of the students blinked—Atlanteans and they hadn't even noticed? "But they just looked like normal guys." "The dark haired one was really cute." "They were both seriously cute. I mean, _seriously_." "They even looked good dripping wet." "I'd take a dip with either one of them _any_ day!" "How can you tell where they're from?"

"From their clothing—only Atlanteans have wetsuits like that—or look that good in them. And they don't need tanks to work underwater." The girls smiled and nodded—the men had looked fine and that was no lie. "And the dark haired one was Aqualad. You know, one of the Teen Titans? And he usually prefers using his real name, Garth." Kara was laughing, yes, Garth had grown up nicely—very nicely. He was a sweetheart, and smart and funny and rich and even royal to make him even more perfect than the kids knew. He was also still nursing a badly broken heart after Tula's death a few months ago. He was only out here helping Wood's Hole because Queen Mera had convinced Arthur that a change of scenery and something to occupy his thoughts would be good for him. "That's one of the reasons this guy", she had linked her arm through Robin's elbow, "agreed to drive for us today. Right, chum?"

'Rob gave a small shrug. "I haven't seen him in a while", then he turned to Kara with a patient look and a quiet, "I'd only do this for you, you know." He meant driving a bunch of swooning students.

"No way." "I thought he was like twelve or something." "Shoulders to die for." "Major hunk." Even the boys in the class seemed impressed to have actually seen two Atlantean divers first hand, even for just a few seconds…_and_ they were within speaking distance of Robin. Awesome.

After the two divers finished whatever the problem was there was a noticeable relaxing of the tension in the surface crew—whatever the problem had been was apparently fixed and maybe fifteen minutes later the ship's crew was back on board from where they'd been tending the cable about twenty yards off the stern. The support craft were secured along the ship's side and the two Atlanteans were stripping the top halves of their wetsuits off in the heat of the midday sun.

Garth saw Robin almost immediately and the two exchanged a brotherly hug, Dick whispering something the kids couldn't hear which caused Garth to nod his head, his smile fading to nothing. Kara had heard them, though; Robbie had asked "You doing all right now? You need anything" to which Garth had said a stilted and not very convincing "No, I'm good. Thanks." They separated, the three men—Dick Grayson, Garth and the other diver leaning nonchalantly against the railing, the Atlanteans dripping on the deck. They ignored the students while they answered questions from the expedition people about whatever they'd just done to save whatever they'd just saved and starting on the cold beers Bob Ballard handed them when he walked back to get his own debriefing. "You earned your paychecks today, gentlemen, and I thank you."

One of the students gathered his nerve. "What did they do?"

The men turned to the, until now, largely ignored students. Ballard calmly answered. "They prevented a prototype million dollar deep sea remote camera from falling four miles to the bottom when the cable unraveled."

"…Oh."

Ballard smiled, "I'd say that gets them a couple of beers."

The Atlantean diver who wasn't Garth muttered, "I hope it gets us more than that."

Garth, with a small laugh and obvious agreement with his companion while he and Robin shook hands—clearly they knew one another from somewhere as well while Garth moved over to Kara. He gave her a friendly but distant hug to avoid getting her wet and, after a moment asked her, with more good manners than real curiosity, "What are you doing here?" The question included the college kids and Rob.

Ballard answered for her. "I'm tour guide. Okay, I'm really just along for the ride—finally got permission to see your hometown for myself, and these young folk are coming along to write it up for—what was it? Marine Biology 101?" He seemed to find that funny.

The two Atlans exchanged surprised glances. "Permission from whom?"

Kara glanced at them, "Arthur. I asked him and he thinks it's a good ice breaker and Dick agreed to be our pilot today." She gave him another grateful smile that he vaguely acknowledged with a small nod.

"Arthur said that?" Looking like he was either about to ask how she'd managed this feat of impossibility or burst out laughing, Garth settled on a private exchange with the other diver, saying something in Atlantean which made them both laugh. "Well, this should be an adventure for you all. I guess."

Robin decided to ignore the sarcasm and let the shoe drop. "Actually, you're supposed to come with us. Arthur said he wanted to talk to you about something."

Garth gave him an indecipherable look. "'First I've heard of it—and is that why you're here? To talk me into it?"

"He asked me to bring you back because there's something you need to deal with—that's what he said. This thing just tied in timing-wise."

"Did he happen to mention what I'm supposed to deal with?" Garth knew, of course, but he was annoyed that one of his best friends had agreed to twist his arm about it.

Rob just shrugged. "You know how he is; he likes to keep secrets."

"That he does." He looked less than impressed but kept his anger under wraps. "He has my number, he can call and explain it to me."

"Garth, c'mon…you know he'll kill me if I don't bring you back. He said it was important and you know the flack I'll get from the Bat if I blow this."

"It's _always_ 'important', _chum_. I'm working. If he has something to discuss, he knows where I am."

The students followed this, amazed that heroes could have a conversation where one of them basically blew off a supposedly senior hero. How strange—they were almost like real people. And wasn't Aquaman like Aqualad's—Garth's, was that what they called him?—father or something?

Kara chimed in trying to help. "He said it's about you taking on some new responsibilities you've been avoiding, if that means anything."

No kidding—the negotiations with Shayeris were hinging on his returning there to finally accept his throne, something that wouldn't happen as long as he had any say in the matter. Arthur knew this and so did his supposed 'people'. These were the same people who had murdered his father, banished his mother and ordered his own death/murder within half an hour of his birth. Now they were really, really sorry and would like nothing better than for him to come back so they could all be friends.

No. It wasn't that simple and he wasn't interested.

Garth practically snorted and shook his head. "I'm busy here and then I'm expected back in New York at the Tower—right 'Rob? After that I'm booked to help the Australian government eradicate the Crown of Thorns which are eating the Barrier Reef. I'm also supposed to help with setting up the Tsunami warning buoys in the Indian Ocean. Like I said; I'm working. If he wants to talk with me, he has my number."

Kara tried to sweet-talk him, knowing he was digging his heels in and it wouldn't work. "C'mon, Garth—you know how Arthur is when he doesn't get his own way."

He laughed out loud at that attempt. "All the more reason to stay here." It was clear she wasn't making any headway with him.

"But…"

"No."

"Garth, it's not that big a deal…"

Garth turned on him with the closest thing Dick Grayson had ever seen to real anger on his fact. "Robbie—back off." He was done discussing his returning to Atlantis, annoyed with the conversation and turned his head towards Ballard. "Did you want any more pictures of that wreck or are we done?" Dick stayed quiet, knowing Garth well enough to let him blow off steam for a while or there'd be no chance at all.

Ballard decided to take advantage of the situation; he'd thought the two divers were finished with the ship, but if they were willing to make at least one more dive to get away from an argument, hell, no reason to turn it down. "…Yeah. If you could get some stuff inside the hull, that would be great—assuming it's not too dangerous; those main deck plates looked like they were about to collapse any second." This was a bit awkward; everyone wanted to get going to see Atlantis but this was the last day the research ship would be available. It was scheduled to leave for some work on the Outer Banks by six this evening and they had less than an hour before it had to start the engines to make the rendezvous. If they didn't get the pictures now, they would have to either forget about them or wait till next year and hope the ship was still intact enough to photograph, which was unlikely.

"It should be all right if we're careful. If you'll excuse us..."

With that offhand dismissal and happy for the excuse to get away from a discussion he didn't want to have, Garth and the other diver checked what were probably Atlantean cameras for film or batteries or whatever you check such things for. Next they pulled the tops of their wet suits back on and simply dove over the side, disappearing almost immediately. The whole dive prep took maybe forty-five seconds, tops.

Kara turned to the doctor, not quite sure what to do now other than wait. She liked Garth and actually had some sympathy for the position he was in; still mourning Tula, not wanting anything to remind him of her and his loss, expected to take a throne he didn't want plus having to deal with Arthur, who could be…difficult. But they were supposed to bring him back home and they were supposed to have left by now. Robin, Dick, wasn't being any help, either right now—he was just standing there looking like he was enjoying the hot sun and ignoring the students who were trying to sidle up to him for pictures or autographs or something. He seemed fine just sunbathing.

"Will they be long, do you think?" Maybe she could just wait until the two divers finished taking pictures; how long could it be, after all? The students were starting to look uncomfortable with this, they wanted to get going as well and certainly didn't want to be stuck in the middle of a disagreement between superheroes. How odd. Sure, she could have made the dive herself, but that would be a serious breech of super hero etiquette and, besides, the Atlanteans were better at this than she was. She stayed right where she was on the deck.

"It's over two miles just to the bottom, then they'll have to get inside of the ship we're dealing with, carefully so as to not get trapped or anything, then they have to actually take a bunch of pictures, then they have to swim back up to the surface. It will be at least half an hour, anyway." Ballard saw the looks on the kid's faces. "They swim a lot faster than we do." He kind of shrugged. "While we're waiting, I could show you some of the things they've already found for us if you'd like. Besides, maybe he'll be in a better mood when he gets back." Robin smiled at that—he'd known Garth for a decade and knew how long he could hold a grudge when he wanted to.

The students knew they didn't have much choice; they were just along for the ride and everyone they'd seen in the last couple of hours seriously outranked them. Supergirl, Dr. Robert Ballard, Garth/Aqualad or whatever he was called. Damn. Best to just wait and see how it played out. In fact, this might even be worth a mention in the paper they'd be writing.

Kara sort of apologized to the students. "The king will be really angry if he's not with us when we get there." And that was an understatement. "And he's our host. I guess we should maybe wait a little bit." Besides, it wasn't like having the doctor showing them around was a hardship or anything. The ship they were diving was an old Roman galley, full of different kinds of ancient freight and had been carrying everything from wine to gold coins and jewelry when it seemed to have gone down in a storm almost three thousand years ago. The things they'd recovered were museum quality.

Less than thirty-five minutes later the kids saw the two Atlantean divers climbing back on board the dive platform of the ship, looking seriously annoyed and with a second ship—some weird kind of a sub, surfacing about twenty yards away. The hatch popped, a couple of men pulled themselves out, swam over, also climbed onboard and approached Tempest/Garth with what looked like major groveling and bowing.

How odd. Robin didn't look surprised; in fact he seemed sympathetic to his friend. But then, he knew that Garth didn't have a choice in this; he was going back whether he wanted to or not Robin was along to soften the blow, try to convince him and maybe run interference between him and Arthur.

The newcomers spoke in what was probably Atlantean with Garth getting more and more irritated by the second, though he was doing what seemed to be his best to suppress it. The sub crew was obviously trying to talk him into doing something, probably going with them somewhere and he clearly didn't want to.

Finally, shaking his head in irritation, he seemed to give in and reluctantly agree, much to the relief of his dive partner and the new guys…then seemed to add some kind of condition which left them flatfooted. Leaving the rest standing on the deck, Garth disappeared down some stairway leading below decks from the look of it.

The guy, who seemed to have appointed himself spokesman went over to Ballard and Robin beside him, "His Majesty has graciously agreed to return with us. It is our sincere hope this isn't an inconvenience to your or your expedition, sir and we can arrange another diver to complete any work of his which is still to be finished, if you wish."

Ballard looked a little surprised. A little? Okay, he was gobsmacked. "…Thank you." Just then Garth reappeared carrying a duffle, annoyed and seeming to just want to get whatever he had to do over with. "Your Majesty? You're a 'Majesty?'"

"Bob, don't start, okay? Just don't." One look at 'Rob, "Or you, either." One of the other Atlantean guys picked up the bag, bowing slightly as he did so. Garth ignored him. "You've gathered that I've been ordered home, right? I'll make sure that your pictures and my report about them get to you in a couple of days and if you need anything else you can contact me through the embassy in Washington; I'll make sure they know to forward anything you have to say to me." He shook his head in irritation. "I'm sorry about this." He turned to board the sub but stopped in mid stride. "On second thought, maybe I will ride back with you, if that's all right, Kara, Rob?"

"Yes, sure, of course." The kids exchanged looks back and forth—Aqualad was going to ride back to Atlantis with them and he asks if it's okay? Yeah, sure. In fact he could sit anywhere he wanted; several of the girls were making room by their sides already. He was major cute and incredibly exotic/sexy with those purple eyes and that amazing accent. And his bod wasn't half bad, either—shoulders for days. And Robin was their driver? Amazing. Today was getting better and better.

"Thank you." He spoke to the other Atlanteans in a language that sounded like a mix of Greek, Latin and something unknown. They looked increasingly uneasy, which Garth ignored. Then, obviously dismissed, the others bowed unhappily and closed their hatch, the sub disappearing under the surface. "They'll escort us back." He seemed resigned to it, but not pleased. "Let's go." It was less a request than a statement, bordering on a command and the students realized they were dealing with something they hadn't considered. He turned to get into the kid's ship, his dive partner joining them with a word from Aqualad; it looked like he either worked for Aqualad or was a good friend. Well, okay, they didn't know who he was but maybe they were brothers for all they knew. Whatever, he was cute, too. Okay, maybe not as cute as Garth, but still more than acceptable. Robbie? Robin had a nickname? Awesome! Anyway, he folded himself into the cockpit and this time left the door opened so he could still talk to Garth. The girls were becoming an embarrassment, but they were both major gorgeous…

That was it. Everyone piled in, the hatches were dogged, they all found seats and cast off.

The water closed over the top of the ship, the water outside the portholes changed from a pale greenish to grow progressively darker as they descended until, after a couple hundred feet, there was almost no surface light at all and all they could see outside was solid, liquid black. The kids oohed and ahhed, nervously watching as they lost sight of all surface light while Garth and Robin ignored the windows, talking to one another. The Atlanteans had seen this a thousand times and it held little interest for them and 'Rob was more concerned about his friend than the scenery. Garth was clearly angry and the other Titan seemed to be trying to calm him down, with limited success. The Atlantean ship which they were told would be with them couldn't be seen, so was either running without lights or was far enough away to not be noticed with the naked eye through the dark water; whatever. They could have been alone on the planet, for all the company they had. A few of the kids seemed to be a little frightened and a bit claustrophobic, but were keeping a lid on it and managed to contain any concerns they may have had as the automatic sensors turned the cabin lights on low enough to see one another. Ballard started talking about what he knew of their destination, but the simple fact was that almost no one really knew anything and so they and so they may as well have been going to Pluto, for all the actual first hand information which was available.

"Um…Aqualad?" One of the girls gathered the nerve to actually talk to him.

He didn't bother to look up from where he'd found space on the floor, something which could only be an Atlantean laptop computer opened and balanced on his legs as he worked quietly, ignoring everything both inside and out until his friend touched his shoulder and nodded toward the students, causing him to look over at them without interest. "My name is Garth. I believe I already said that."

The young red head blushed. "Is it all right if we call you that or should we use 'your majesty' or something?"

He seemed to take a mental count to ten or so and with a slightly wan smile looked over at her and said, "No one in their right mind would go by 'Aqualad' if they had a choice—that was hung on my by the surface press almost ten years ago and I don't use my title if I don't have to. My name is Garth." He looked at her expectantly but she seemed stalled until he prodded her. "Did you want to ask me something?" His manner was still annoyed and a bit curt.

"Um, it's just that none of us have ever been to Atlantis and I thought, if you don't mind or anything, maybe you could tell us something about it. If you're not too busy or something." She was blushing scarlet by now and thinking he was probably the best looking man she'd ever seen, even if he did live underwater and maybe had an unnatural relationship with seals and porpoises. Or not—that was just a rumor she'd heard once and wasn't sure if she believed, even if it might be true. And if he wasn't available, then maybe Robin or Garth's friend…

"What would you like to know?" He looked like he wished he'd opted to travel in the Atlantean ship after all.

TBC 

2/4/07


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes. Working…

**Part Two**

Some of the other kids found their tongues. "When did Atlantis sink, for starters?"

Garth's voice was naturally soft and the students had to pay attention to hear him, but he was used to public speaking and had probably been through this story a thousand times already. "The actual date, as best as we've been able to determine, was August 17th, 9047 BC, according to your calendar. What's now known as Atlantis was largely located on an island which was destroyed when the volcano underneath it erupted violently. Most of the cities and villages on the island were completely annihilated and the majority of the population killed, but several cities had enough warning and the necessary technology to make adaptations for some of their people to survive underwater. The current nation is made up of their descendants."

"How come it's called Atlantis now? I mean I heard that it used to be something else."

"Plato screwed up?" Garth had the ghost of a smile on his face. "It's probably just a mistranslation from the Greeks. That would be my guess, anyway."

"So you all live pretty much in the city then?"

"In one or another of them, pretty much. It's like most people on the surface live in or near cities. It's simply easier."

"Wait, I'm kinda confused, there's more than one city? I thought Atlantis was the name of a single place."

Garth looked like he wasn't sure if he should answer this one or not—almost everything about his country was considered classified as far as the surface was concerned, but finally gave a partial answer. "Atlantis is the surface name for the country, but there is more than one city. It's like New York is just one city in the United States."

"Garth?" Ballard spoke up. "After millennia of isolation, why has your government decided to allow contact now? In fact, they seem to be encouraging it. For example, not only did you two work with us landsmen, but we're on our way to the bottom of the ocean to meet some of your people."

"Inevitability. We knew it's just a matter of time before surface technology makes contact unavoidable so it seemed like a better idea to initiate it ourselves. And I've been working with the Titans for years now, just like Arthur has been in the JLA."

"You're handling it this way to have more control over the interaction, then?"

"Of course."

"So we're part of a PR campaign to show Atlantis isn't a threat or anything?"

Garth paused again; he seemed to consider every answer before saying anything. "No one consulted with me about this, but that would be my guess, yes. It sounds to me like the equivalent of Ping-Pong Diplomacy—a group of college students being given a personal tour. You'll probably be impressed, or I'm sure that's Arthur's intention at any rate, then go back and write a series of glowing reports about how nice everyone was and the things you saw."

"You sound a little snide about it."

"Do I?" He gave a small, involuntary shrug then paused for a moment, considering his answer. "I don't mean to—honestly I don't, but it's fairly obvious, isn't it? In fact I'm sure you _will_ be well treated and you will see things that haven't been shown to anyone on the surface; everything from biologics to the architecture. The point will be to impress you with how civilized and advanced we are so that you can go home and tell your friends that we're not a bunch of dumb fish." The students seemed a little uncomfortable with his answer, maybe it was his attitude or simply realizing that they had been turned into political pawns and weren't sure if that was a good thing or not.

Finally a young man who looked like a football player cleared his throat, pulling Garth back from his computer screen. "Is it true that for a long time if there was a shipwreck or something and some Atlanteans came along, they wouldn't help?"

He half looked up, the rest of his attention still on the screen. "Until recently, there was a 'no contact' law which was heavily enforced. Interaction with the surface in any form was a capital offense—the penalty was death—so everyone stayed underwater unless there was some kind of pressing need to reach air. That didn't happen too often and even when it did, the odds of seeing surfacers was small. The oceans are very large, after all."

"Wait, you mean that if you talked to a girl on a beach or helped some poor slob whose boat capsized, you could be executed?"

Garth nodded. "Once in a while it still happened, of course, but the exceptions can be counted on one hand, and that's all through our recorded history. We embraced xenophobia and it worked pretty well for ten thousand years. Well, except for Hans Christian Andersen, anyway." That ghost of a smile was back.

"Wait, I'm having a problem with this. You mean that if some Atlantean ship happened by when like the Titanic was sinking, they wouldn't do anything?"

"Until about twenty years or so ago, that's right. There's a small chance they'd call in help by radio without identifying themselves, but there wouldn't be any direct contact, no." The answer seemed to be a bit unsettling to the students who wondered just how different the people they'd be meeting really were. "I've read accounts of anonymous radio messages being sent out to help sinking ships or survivors during World War Two but not too many. The no-contact mentality was pretty ingrained."

A flash of lights went by some of the windows, too fast to focus on, though the two divers saw it. "Did you see…?" "Wha…?" "Jesus!"

"That was a deep sea viper. They're fairly common at this depth." From Garth's voice he could have been identifying a pet cat—and was about as impressed.

"Did anyone get a picture?" "Damn!" "That was a new species."

The excitement died down enough for the conversation to resume, but the kids made a much bigger effort to pay attention to the windows after that.

The redheaded girl tried again, and she edged closer to Garth, hoping to get his personal—very personal attention. "Um, Garth? Do you still hang out with the Titans anymore?"

"Sometimes, not as much as I used to. We're still friends, if that's what you're asking but we're all busy; right Rob?" Robin just smiled

"Ohmigod, he's so cute!"

Garth suppressed a laugh. "I'm sure he's pleased you think so, aren't you, Robbie?"

"Seriously, do you have a girlfriend?" She'd addressed this to Robin, three feet away but busy driving.

Garth, somehow, maintained a straight face while Robin just made some vague and half-mumbled comment about liking to keep his private life private, thanks.

"Do _you_ have a girlfriend?" Kara couldn't believe someone asked Garth that, just a few months after Tula had died. Fine, they probably didn't know, but who asks personal questions of a total stranger? Garth, ever polite but clearly uncomfortable, also gave a non-answer. "And I prefer not to talk about my personal life, if you don't mind."

"Garth?" Ballard spoke up. "I was curious about that extended subject, myself. How does that work in Atlantis culturally and socially? Say you decided to marry one of these lovely young ladies on board with us today, could you do so? For that matter, _do_ you marry in Atlantis?"

He seemed to mentally sigh at how basic the questions were but remained polite, barely. "Yes, we generally get married and technically I can marry anyone I want; well, anyone who'll have me, anyway. Realistically, as a member of the royal family, I have to limit myself to someone who's considered acceptable to the people and the government. And obviously there are practical considerations that make a marriage to a surfacer virtually impossible."

"But you just said that you're a king yourself, couldn't you give yourself permission to marry anyone you wish?"

He shrugged. "I'm a king who's refused my throne and even so I'm bound by the same laws as anyone. Unless my own council agreed to the match, I'd be acting illegally and the marriage would probably be voided." He pushed a couple of keys on his computer. "But I can sleep with anyone I want so all's not lost as far as that's concerned."

A boy in the back commented, "Marry who you're told to and then live with who you want?"

Garth responded without looking up. "Pretty much. Ideally you marry the person you want to live with but that's not always the case, is t?"

Ballard gave him a curious look. "Do you mind my asking why you chose to refuse a throne? I'm curious about the politics and how they could affect…"

Garth interrupted, ignoring the second part of Ballard's question. "I can't really go into the details, but being named King is simply something I'm not going to accept for a number of reasons, personal and otherwise." Garth's attention was back on his computer screen. "They think I'm their king, I don't"; it was all the answer they were going to get but one of girls whispered a little too loudly to another about how he wasn't just gorgeous and exotic, he was even royal and how cool was that? Annoyed by the remark, Garth pretended not to hear. Rob gave him a sympathetic glance.

One of the boys had been looking at Garth's laptop since he'd opened the thing. It wasn't anything like you'd fine in the campus bookshop or at CompUSA. "Is that Atlantean?"

Duh. Garth nodded and turned it around so the kid could see the screen. Pushing a few buttons, he made it produce a light show, show Atlantean 3-D film, play some of their music and do a number of other tricks, all better and faster than the machines the students were used to and advanced enough that Ballard was clearly impressed. The display was child's play for Garth and was harmless enough though he refused to answer any specific questions about how the thing actually worked with "Could you explain to me how a TV works?" Politely evasive and that was as much as they could get out of him. His friend simply pretended not to understand English enough to answer their questions, but was following everything that was said pretty closely for someone without a clue.

"But you may consider selling it to the surface? How powerful is that thing? What's its capacity? How fast is it? What kind of stuff can it do? I mean, cripes, we don't have anything that small with that kind of resolution and if it's as fast as it looks, well shit—that would be awesome."

"I thought you were here to look at the fish." Garth changed the subject without subtlety. His friend touched his shoulder again and pointed out the window at something. The students looked, but their eyes weren't as developed for seeing in darkness and so just saw black outside. Hitting a switch, Supergirl turned on the outside floodlights, showing a massive whale carcass laying on the bottom, seemingly alive and swarming with hagfish and deepwater sharks, crabs and whatever else feasting on the mountain of rotting flesh. It was repellant and hypnotic at the same time. The kids crowded the windows, taking pictures and video, pointing things out to one another for long minutes.

"So, you've refused some kind of a throne to wreck dive?"

"You're getting on my nerves, drop it. That should serve as a feeding station for at least a year before it's completely stripped."

Okay. The kids were chastised enough to take the hint and Robin gave Garth a quick look—he'd never heard him actually be rude before this. "What kind of whale was that?"

"Sperm."

"Ewww."

"Are you married? I mean, I know it's really none of my business or anything, but you didn't really answer and I was just kind of wondering…" It was the redhead again, the one who seemed to have the instant crush on Garth. The other students were engrossed in the feeding outside, still taking pictures and trying to figure out what all things were eating the massive corpse and glad they couldn't smell the thing. She had moved up right next to him and spoke softly enough that he was the only one who could hear her.

"I don't talk about my personal life. Perhaps you weren't listening." Period. He spoke bluntly and with coldness, obviously resenting the question. Defeated, the girl moved away to look out one of the portholes. Feeling a little guilty and seeing that she seemed to be holding back tears at his curtness, coupled with Rob's reproving look, Garth quietly turned to her, unnoticed by the others. "Look, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to be rude to you or anything. I was married, well, we were going to get married soon, but—she died a couple of months ago and…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "That's why I was out here working with Wood's Hole; Arthur thought I should get away for a while."

"Arthur is Aquaman?"

"And King Orin, yes. He's the one who's supposedly called me back to discuss something." This was the most he'd willing said since he'd joined the students.

"But are you really a king yourself? I didn't get that a little while ago."

Garth was going to blow her off but then realized it didn't really matter. It was all public record to anyone who could access it. "I was born a king—my father was king before me but died before my birth. Because of politics my mother was banished from his kingdom and I was sentenced to death to keep our family off the throne, allowing others to come to power. I didn't die and so am still technically king; the man who usurped my father's throne is gone now and it's currently filled with regents ruling for me."

She smiled, trying to understand. "But why wouldn't you want to be a king?"

He so didn't want to get into this. "It's not everything the books make it out to be."

"Well, yeah, I guess, but how can you just say you won't do it? I thought you'd be pretty much stuck with it. Aren't you?"

"That's the disagreement." He gave her a small smile while his friend gave him an exasperated look and Robin just shook his head. It looked like Garth and these guys had this conversation before.

She seemed embarrassed and at a loss for what to say to that. "My name is Blair."

"Nice to meet you, Blair." The rest of the students were still watching looking out the windows for sight of anything of interest when the radio crackled.

"Please follow the small craft coming along side and follow him into your assigned docking port." The voice was accented, similar but thicker than Garth's. They finally saw the other sub disappear to their right from where it had been tailing them, just out of human sight and the students could just see lights approaching from the lead-in ship and could barely make out the lights of the city ahead and below them.

A tone on Garth's computer chimed, indicating that he had a message. Opening the thing and pushing a couple of buttons, he read whatever was on the screen, looked annoyed and nodded to his companion who didn't seem at all surprised by Garth's annoyance. They spoke quickly in their own language, Garth finally just giving the man a dirty look and nodding to something he clearly didn't want to do.

"Everything okay?" Robin didn't know what was going on, but suspected it wasn't going to be good for Garth.

Garth just shook his head. "Stay with me, will you? Arthur will be less likely to try anything if there are outside witnesses." Rob nodded; Arthur was nuts, no question.

Their ship approached and docked in some kind of landing bay, the engine was shut down and some kind of magnet setup held the vessel in place instead of ropes. The kids inside could hear air being pressurized outside as the water outside the portholes got lower and finally disappeared below their view. The hatch popped to reveal a well lit and very large hanger looking space. Six guard looking people stood lining the exit as a man who seemed to be some kind of an officer entered, ignored the students and half nodded, half bowed to Garth who seemed resigned to having to do whatever they wanted. He got up, Robin next to him every step of the way, and simply led the man out as the other guards formed ranks behind them as they disappeared into a doorway which closed behind as they passed through, guards in place on either side of the portal. His Atlantean friend was left behind, seemingly at something of a loss as to what he should do now, finally giving the kids a small smile, "Your guides are waiting for you on the dock, if you'd like to exit. Your luggage, if you have any, will be taken care of for you. We've been informed hat you'll be assigned to guest quarters while you're here." With that he also left the ship, walking through a different door than Garth had used and was gone.

"What was that about?" Blair asked Supergirl.

"Garth was just ordered to present himself to the King, but I've no idea why." Okay, that wasn't exactly true. Garth was being grilled by Arthur to try to make him accept his throne and go along with Arthur in any votes affecting the nation. With two kings taking a stand together they would be tough to fight against.

"Will he be okay? I mean he didn't seem too happy about that and isn't Aquaman a king down here?" Blair was still a little giddy that she had just spoken to not just a former Titan and a major hunk, but to a king as well. It was pretty way cool.

"He's a king, too. He should be fine. He may not be happy, but they won't hurt him or anything." Well, probably not. "Garth's pretty tough."

* * *

"And this next tapestry shows the rebuilding of the first city after the sinking. Any questions"

"How did you make a dome strong enough to withstand the pressure? I mean we're like a mile underwater, right?"

"It's a synthetic but I'm really not at liberty to discuss the details. Anything else before we move on?"

"How large is your population? I mean, this looks like a pretty big city and if there are others like it, man—how many of you are there?"

"I apologize, but I'm afraid that that's not something I'm allowed to address. Now if you'll all come with me, I'll show you some of the architectural features of the palace…"

* * *

"But it's advantageous to both of our cities, Garth, surely you see that. If we unite, we make a stronger stand. We hold more power together than separate."

"But you miss the point that I don't want power, Arthur. I'm not you."

"No, you're not, but you're still a king, whether that galls you or not and the longer you choose to hide yourself in a cave of coral the longer your city will be nothing. The surfacers want what we have to offer—if we negotiate as a single body, we present a united front."

"Dealings with the surface is inevitable, we all know that but Shayeris doesn't share the same agenda that Poseidonis does. We have no desire to bully our allies, Arthur and…"

"You want to negotiate from a position of weakness, then that's up to you but that makes you a fool and a weak king—your people would be better off without you."

"We'll see, Arthur. If there's nothing else?" Garth knew Arthur was just trying to bait him, just as he knew it wouldn't work. "No? Good afternoon, Your Majesty." The last was said with just enough sarcasm to infuriate Arthur but not enough to do anything about. Garth turned and left the chamber, Robin trailing behind. Outside with the doors closed and away from the guards Rob asked, "So that's not the end of it, was it?"

"Of course not. That was just the first skirmish."

TBC

G knows A wants him to be the go between for Atl and the surface…he agrees then uses it to push his own agenda an d that of his city, cutting out Pos and pissing off A. A is marginalized and G is now the power guy and the go to for the surface. The students/Rob are held by A as a baragining chip to get G to give up some power and compromise. Rob helps G but then realizes that he's being used. He's pissed/hurt but it's bigger than two people and G isn't sorry—personally, yes , politically not so much.

22


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

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**I'm**** Working… **

** Part Three**

"So what happens now?" Robin was walking with Garth down some drained and dry corridor in the palace of Poseidonis headed who knew where.

"We go to get some dinner with a bunch of invited worthies—probably including Ballard and at least a few of the students, if not all of them. Then, possibly during dinner, I'll undergo some more attempts at blackmail and brainwashing coupled with some strong arm techniques and then we'll retire to our respective guest quarters to get some sleep."

"Very funny. Seriously, what's next."

Garth smiled to himself, "That was seriously. C'mon."

He steered Robin through an engraved glass door into an underwater garden, another dry area of the palace, where they were growing everything from surface vegetables and fruit to roses which would give Alfred's a run for their money. The place was huge and impressive, just as it was supposed to be. Outside, Rob could see fish lazily swimming back and forth, ignored as much as a bunch of squirrels would be in a Gotham park. The difference, of course, being tat they were species no one on the surface had ever seen before.

In the far end of the greenhouse were the students, plus guide being shown the wonders of their hosts. Well, some of the, anyway.

"How much of this place is kept dry—and why?" What he was seeing was amazing, but Robin was confused. "This isn't all just to impress anyone from the surface who wanders by, is it?"

"Yes and no. The food is legitimate and we really do eat it and have for hundreds of years but the rest, the tasteful paths and flowers is for visitors." Garth picked a yellow rose bud. It had been hybridized to have no thorns but to retain is sweet perfume.

"You expect a lot of them?"

"Evidently Arthur does."

They strolled some more, avoiding the group and the guide, as well as Kara. Garth didn't want to deal right now—he had enough on his mind without playing host to a bunch of strangers. They went through a series of airlocks leading them to another section of the huge building. In fact, as Dick walked around and saw more of the building, it almost seemed like he was in a self-contained village within the confines of the city dome; separate and self-sustaining. He thought of medieval fortresses and didn't like the implications of what that might mean if someone got Arthur mad or defensive.

They entered a large room, round and with a domed, vaulted ceiling high over their heads. In the center was a round table taking up most of the room. At least two dozen substantial chairs were spaced around it; it was a conference room, clearly intended for negotiations with surface representatives. Garth explained that the center of the floor, inside the circle of the table, was a now covered pool of seawater, leading out to the main city through a series of passages. Atlanteans uncomfortable sitting in the open air would be accommodated here during talks. On the walls, stretching up at least thirty feet, were hundreds and hundreds of weapons arranged so that they resembled starbursts, patterns, geometric arrangements.

"That's not too subtle." It would be like talking in the middle of an arsenal.

"Arthur believes in negotiating from a position of power."

Dick gave a half laugh. "So it seems."

"By the way, I've been ordered to meet with Arthur in about an hour so he can outline the specific assignments he thinks I'd be best suited for."

"Any idea what that might be?"

Garth sat in one of the chairs. "I speak English, so I'd assume I'm expected to deal with the English speaking countries, plus, since I have connections in the US, it will assumed that I'll some kind of advantage there."

"And you're okay with this?"

Garth didn't answer, just gave him an enigmatic smile.

* * *

"So, Dr. Ballard, we thought this area might be of some interest to you."

Ballard and about half of the students, the better students, were in a lab of some kind where some kind of experiments were being conducted. Things were esoteric enough that most of the visitors had no idea what they were looking at. Their guide was translating for the man who seemed to be in charge. It was a good-sized operation with thirty or ore people at work just in this area.

"These are efforts to distill the DNA of every known species in the ocean to preserve them in case of future extinction's or crashing populations."

"We're doing similar things up at Wood's Hole, in conjunction with Stanford and a couple of the other schools on the surface."

"Yes, we're aware of that, but the difference is that we've found how to make it work."

Ballard looked slightly startled. "You mean you've actually been able to reconstruct animals using methods you've…"

"Perfected? Yes. I'm afraid that the details are still classified, but perhaps in the future we'll be able to share what we're learning, just as your people have things which interest us as well."

* * *

"Kara, if he gives you any trouble, any at all, call me. I know Arthur better than you do and I can deal with him…"

"Oh, Kal, he's a perfect sweetheart. Honestly, he is."

There was a silence on the secure line for a second. "Just be careful and don't assume that anything he tells you is what's really going on."

"Oh, Kal…"

"I'm serious, Kara. I suspect that he's using you for PR; that's the only reason he allowed you to take those kids and Ballard down there. He'll use this and you may not be too pleased with what he's capable of doing."

She looked out the window to a panoramic view of Poseidonis. It was breathtaking, the palace was beautiful and Arthur and his retainers had been wonderful to them since the second she'd called and asked if Arthur would be willing to let them come for a visit. "I think you're worrying over nothing, Kal, honestly I do. He's been a sweet as he could be. He's bending over backwards for us, he really is and Garth and Robin are here, too, so it's not like I'm here all alone or anything."

"Well, just be careful, all right? And I'll be keeping an eye on you."

"Okay, fine." Sigh of exasperation. Kal could be such a big brother sometimes. "I'll talk to you soon."

"I'd prefer if we could talk about this in person, Kara. Would it be possible for you to come back now for a while?"

"And leave the students? I don't know, that seems a little rude, don't you think?" She didn't want to offend Arthur, either—especially after he'd been so nice.

But if Kal insisted, well…okay. A quick trip back wouldn't hurt anything.

* * *

"So, I'd like to propose a toast; to friendship."

"Here, here."

"And, if I may, a second toast; to King Garth the second, who has agreed to serve as Atlantis' chief negotiator with the surface nations as we open talks."

Garth stared at King Orin at the head of the table. He'd suspected that being placed at the other end, in the other place of honor, was a sop to soften him up or something along those lines, but he'd never agreed to any of this. He hadn't accepted his thrown, he hadn't agreed to act as the go-between. He'd told Arthur that he wasn't sure about any of this and he wanted to have some time to consult with Shayeris and the councilors there before he agreed to anything. Now Arthur was trying to force his hand by making the announcement in a room full of surfacers and members of Arthur's court, along with a few Shayerians thrown in for good measure.

And he disliked being blindsided. He stood; mirroring Arthur's posture, smiling just enough to acknowledge that everyone in the room was staring at him. "Your Majesty, I'm both flattered and not unaware of the great honor you've given me, but with all possible respect, I'm afraid that I must request that we discuss this further, perhaps in private."

The change in Arthur's expression would be undetectable to anyone who didn't know him well but Garth saw the fury.

"Of course, M'lord. As you wish, I look forward to it." King Orin looked around the table to include his many guests. "I believe that Lord Vulko has arranged some entertainment for us all after the main courses. So, please enjoy your meal and I raise one more toast to cooperation."

After everyone was seated again and conversation was murmuring around the room, Dick leaned over to Garth, seated just beside him, semi-whispering so just his friend could hear. "Did you know about any of that before he opened his mouth?"

Garth maintained his pleasant expression. "No, but I'm not surprised. The best defense is always a good offense, isn't that true?"

Dick smiled a thank you to the server who offered him a platter of swordfish steaks, perfectly broiled and huge. They looked amazing, garnished with what looked like parsley but turned out to be some obscure form of sea grass. "How do you find swordfish so big?

"They're farmed, obviously." Garth didn't seem in the mood to discuss the menu. He whispered a final private comment to Dick, "I want to talk to you later and we may have to bring in some of the JLA." He turned to Dr. Ballard, opposite Dick. "Bob, you never did tell me if you got all the information you needed from that Roman wreck we were working on this week. Do you expect to have to go back next year?" It was small talk but served to change the subject.

Meanwhile along the length of the table, the students were talking to one another and, where possible and they found a local who could understand them, with whatever worthy was also dining with them. The conversations were the usual excited comments any group of tourists make in a new country, exclaiming about the sights they'd seen and the people they'd met, wondering of the food would be good and if it would make anyone sick.

The meal progressed with Arthur seeming to enjoy playing the part of gracious host, telling stories about their history, flirting with the girls and making sure that everyone was well looked after. Finally the dessert was produced; a sweet thing flambé, the surface guests amazed that fire existed underwater, even if it was in an air filled section of the palace. With the final round of toasts about to start, Garth was subtly approached by one of Arthur's the mid-level advisors, requesting that he leave to meet the King in his private suite as soon as the dinner was adjourned for the entertainment.

He leaned over, told Robin he'd see him later to finish their discussion and told Bob to enjoy the rest of his evening before following the assistant to Arthur's private chambers to clarify their plans regarding the surface contacts.

Served some hot local tea and finally comfortable in a water fill section, he made himself comfortable with some initial proposals to several surface governments as he waited for the King.

* * *

Back in the dining hall the dancers were just finishing their performance, the audience applauding and starting a standing ovation when King Orin got up and thanked the artists. Turning to the audience, he gave a nod to the guard at the main door. The rest of the Atlanteans thanked their dinner companions for their company and adjourned and left the room in a friendly, disorganized group. The students looked around wondering, if there was something else or if the day was over and they could go back to their assigned rooms to rest.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to thank you once again for making the effort to come all this way to see our city and meet some of our people. As you're likely aware, this is an exciting time for us; we're just opening ourselves to possibilities of contact with the surface and are exploring the many things and the many areas we may have valuable exchanges to make with one another." Arthur nodded to the two guards at the central door. All four doors to the room opened simultaneously with about a dozen armed troops entering, standing and waiting for their orders. I, and my councilors, have realized that the negotiations, both with your government and with the leaders of some of our other cities will go quicker and with fewer distractions and delays if we have something of what I'm told on the surface is called a bargaining chip."

He gave another nod, the guards fanned out, surrounding the table and stood about six feet back in a circle around it.

"If you'd all be so kind as to accompany these gentlemen to your assigned quarters, I would be appreciative." I expect that you all have the sense not to do anything stupid and will cooperate for your own good. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm expected in a meeting. Please enjoy the rest of your stay."

* * *

"Garth, I was hoping I could persuade you to agree to taking on the surface negotiations. Have I succeeded?"

"I think I'd rather not, Arthur. If you don't mind, I really rather leave that to others, I have my own responsibilities and would prefer to concentrate on them for now."

"Yes, of course. Understandable." He turned to his monitor. "May I offer you anything?"

"No, thank you. If you don't mind, I'd like to get back to my own apartment and rest. I would like to leave in the morning."

"I'm sure you would. May I ask where Dick is? I thought you two were bunking together."

That was odd. Why would Arthur think that? "No, he was assigned to one of the VIP guest rooms. I assume that he's either still watching the entertainment or retired for the night." Hasn't he?

Arthur turned the monitor so that Garth could see it. It was a spit screen with two security feeds on display. One showed the students being led, under guard, to their rooms. The second screen showed Dick already in his quarters, a guard at the door.

"I was thinking that you might want to reopen our discussion, under the circumstances."

Garth looked at Arthur. "Even you can't do this—the US government will raise holy hell when they find out you've effectively illegally locked up their citizens, including Bob Ballard and when Batman and the JLA finds out you've incarcerated Robin they'll be here in minutes."

"I suppose, but I can kill them all before anyone crosses our boundaries."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

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**Part Four**

It was the morning after the dinner. The students were all being well treated, as were Robin and Ballard but they were also all locked in their respective rooms and under guard. Arthur had promised Garth that none of them would be mistreated so long as they didn't cause any trouble and that had information had been passed along to them. Most had easily agreed, just wanting to be released and sent home.

"You know this is ridiculous. Even if the US or some other country agrees to whatever you have in mind, anything agreed to under duress is worthless. Let the students and Dick go and you can diffuse this before it gets out of hand."

Arthur gave Garth a mild look Garth knew was a warning he would do well to heed. "I don't appreciate being called 'ridiculous in my own palace."

"Be that as it may, you know this can't work. You can't force this."

"Of course I can."

Garth sighed, Arthur could be reasonable or not, as the currents moved him and one never knew which was he drifting on any given day. With any luck at all, in the morning he'd have rethought this and reversed himself again, the students could be gotten out and life could go on. With any luck. Without luck he and the students as well as Dick, could all be executed by then. "What, exactly, is it you want from the surface nations?"

"Free trade. Open exchanges of information, knowledge, cultural exchanges."

"Of course, but is there anything else?" The negotiations had started and were preceding well or at least as of last week, they were. Garth agreed with the need to join the other countries on the surface as a viable nation in their own right, but this was, as Roy would say, plain nuts. "I've had hints from Washington and London that they're interested in the same things and our overtures to the United Nations have been well received. If we remove the guards from the student's area and let Dick go their government will be willing to set up a dialogue. If we keep them hostage they'll send in their navies."

"…Which we could defeat easily."

Of course they could, but what would be the point? It wasn't like they were a superpower or stood to gain anything by starting a war.

"Is that your intention?"

"I believe in bargaining from a position of strength."

"Negotiations aren't the same as belligerence."

Arthur gave Garth a bored look. "Saith the king of a city of pacifists. Your people are weaklings and you're the weakest of them all."

"We're believer's in non-violence who have avoided war for nine thousand years."

"By hiding your city in an Abyss. They live in fear and that's what you were bred to."

"There are better ways to do this, Arthur; all the cities agree with Shayeris. You know what the vote was at the last City Summit…"

"A self-protective vote by cowards. The way to achieve is to rule through power."

This was going nowhere and angering Arthur wouldn't prove anything but to put the hostages in more danger than they were already in—and Atlantis, as well.

"It's still early, Arthur. No one on the surface knows yet you plan to use the students for this. Show your strength and your confidence as a king and a leader by letting them go."

"No."

There was still room to work with him, if he'd agree. "A good faith gesture, then. Let one person go, send them up to the surface with a message. State what you want and give a time frame that's reasonable. Make it clear that the others are being well treated and send pictures to prove it. You'll be listened to, you know you will."

Arthur watched Garth as he spoke, saw the sincerity and calmness and realized that a spokesman was a good idea which could buy them all some time. Releasing one of the surfacers would still leave him twenty to parlay with. Fine, yes, good. "I'll write a list of demands and conditions. Ballard can deliver them." He sat at his desk. "You'll help me. Sit down."

* * *

Robin looked around his suite. It was completely dry and designed to impress whoever was assigned to stay there. The furnishing were obviously expensive, the art on the walls and the shelves were masterpieces and the view outstanding, overlooking the city. Obviously he could assume that the room was probably bugged and that he was being watched. That was a given but it also was something he'd dealt with a hundred times. No big deal. He'd already tried the door and found it locked. Immediately after he rattled the knob it was opened and a guard politely asked if there was anything he wanted or needed. Sure, how about you getting lost? Okay, he was being held here in the proverbial gilded cage but what about the students? Where was Ballard and what was happening to Garth? The guard, pretending to not know enough English to understand him just shook his head and closed the door, leaving Robin alone again. Picking up something that looked like a phone, he got a voice on the other end speaking Atlantean—never mind, wrong number.

All right, he could get a hold of Garth with his Titans communicator since the guards either overlooked it or let it slip though, but that could be a last resort. No reason to tip his hand yet.

For that matter, he could probably get a hold of the Bat and maybe the JLA is he had to, if the thing could transit through God knew how many miles of water. Crap.

And where was Kara? This was her party, what was going on with her just taking off? Some space monster attacking Tokyo again? Did she have yet another crush on some new cute guy who was going to turn out to be a sleaze and break her heart or use her for Christ knew what this time? Talk about being predictable. God, she was such a girl.

Finally a maid looking person came through the door, carrying some kind of tea or snack or whatever it was. She was demure, seemed to be shy, didn't meet his eyes and didn't speak. She did, however move the plate on the tray a scant scootch to show him the edge of a note underneath. With a nod and a slight bow she left, no having said anything a word in any language.

He tried to keep the paper hidden in his hand, assuming that the room was bugged, opening it below the table as he pretended to open his napkin on his lap. 'I'm working on it. Stay alert.'

That's all it said. It was from Garth, of course but it was enough. He wasn't forgotten and Garth was on top of whatever was going on.

Good.

That meant that something was in the works and he'd be kept informed and could mentally prepare himself for…for what? For whatever was coming, whenever it came.

He was a Titan. This was all in a day's work. He'd be okay with this. This is what they did.

Fine. He tasted the tea; it was really very good.

* * *

"But I don't get it; why are we locked in here?"

"Face it, Blair, he's cute but he's not boyfriend material. Get over it, f'Chrissakes, will you?"

Blair blushed a deep red. "That's not what I meant. I mean he seemed so nice, why would he be so two-faced?"

"Maybe he wasn't. Maybe that king, that Arthur guy is the problem. Besides, 'Arthur' is Aquaman and he's a member of the Justice League, right? He's supposed to be a good guy and not do stuff like this. He's supposed to be like big Boy Scout. Maybe this is his idea of some kind of a joke or something. Didn't your read that article in Superhero Weekly last month that said they all take like this vow or something, swear an oath or something to never hurt anyone unless they're bad guys? We'll be okay. If he does anything to us he'd be in trouble."

"…Yeah, sure, I bet he's shaking in his boots just thinking about it. He's just a big guppy." Nerves were beginning to stretch and the four girls sharing a large room—like all the kids were sharing four to a room, were getting pretty scared. This was supposed to be fun, an adventure, something to impress the school with, guarantee them good grades and be something to tell their grandchildren about. It wasn't supposed to be like being kidnapped or something. "Besides, You're just all moony over him because he told you his wife or girlfriend or whatever she was got killed or died or was eaten by a shark or something. You're just looking to fill a vacuum and you know it."

Blair glared at Chrissy; she was a bitch of the first order and she really wished she'd been put in some other room—_any_ other room. "Has it occurred to you that maybe he's a little depressed and stuff because he's still like our age and his wife died? Maybe he's just thinking about other things, y'think? For all you know they might have even stayed right here, in this room. He probably feels sad being back here, did you think of that?" She threw herself down in a large chair. "He's probably trying to get us home right this minute. I bet he is."

"He sure took on a lot of mystical qualities when you saw him with his shirt off and his wetsuit riding about five inches below his belly button."

"Shut _up_, Chrissy."

And where was Supergirl? Okay, she'd said something about having to do something up on the surface for a while but she promised she'd be back. No sure, she hadn't exactly said _when_ she'd be back and she was probably pretty busy but still…where _was_ she? And Robin, he was another one—where did he go? Fine, he was probably locked up somewhere just like they were, but he was a Titan f'Chrissakes. He should be able to do something to help them, shouldn't he? Wasn't that like his job?

In fact, for that matter, Garth, Aqualad, King whatever was a Titan, too. How come he was letting King Nutcase get away with this without lifting a finger to get them home or whatever? That's what Titans were supposed to _do_, they saved people. Jeez Louise.

Okay, okay, maybe he was trying something but cripes…

"Did he really tell you his wife died? That's so incredibly sad. And he's a king and probably rich and everything, I bet."

Blair nodded. He needed someone to make him feel better. If he called her on the house phone she could meet him and he could maybe bounce ideas off her and then he'd see how smart she was. Maybe she could get him to open up about the dead wife and he could let out his feelings and then he'd feel a lot better and could move on. He'd figure out a way for them to al be rescued and he'd let everyone know it was because she'd helped him clear his mind and…

This was so totally not turning out the way they thought the weekend would be going.

* * *

"Dr. Ballard, is there anything I might get for you?"

"I'd like to contact my office, of you don't mind."

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but I believe that communications with the surface are being worked on at the moment."

"Do you have any idea how long they'll be down?"

"I'm sorry again, but I'm afraid not."

"In that case, may I speak with some of you geologists or arrange some interaction with some of your biologists? I have many questions for them. Many questions."

"I'll see what I can do, sir. Please, if you could just be patient…"

The door closed and the sound of a lock turning could clearly be heard. He went over to his window, marveling at the panorama before him. It was a wonderland, a fantasy and the highlight of his career—hell, one of the highlights of his life, just being here. He had awards and recognition enough for ten men, but this—Atlantis. Just saying the name was enough to make your hair stand up. To actually be here, standing in a palace a mile or more underwater, to see these people, taste their food, and be able to talk with them was beyond his furthest dreams and beyond.

They were intelligent, advanced and seemed reasonable aside from that King who was clearly on the edge of some kind of a paranoid breakdown.

A few hours later he was mid discussion with two of the locals, described to him as the heads of the science departments at their best conservatory for modern thought and theory. They'd been discussing the history and philosophy of the Atlantean government while they looked through 3-D slides and films of dozens and dozens of unknown species. There were pictures and records of everything from new corals to fifty-foot long sharks, never seen on the surface. Amazing—and this was just the tip of the iceberg. They both spoke enough English to be understood and answered as much as they could but there was so much and he had so many questions—just as they did for him—that a comment would get them off on yet another twenty minute tangent time and time again. Exciting and exhilarating.

One of the assistants came in, deferential to the three men, handing Ballard a folded paper. Opening it he read:

_Dr. Ballard_

_Please e so kind as to prepare yourself to return to the surface. You are being released within the hour._

_Garth_

No. This couldn't happen, not now, not yet. There was too much to look at, too many people to talk to, too many things to see.

The other two men looked at the note. "You need to do this, Doctor. You're welcome to come back or we would be honored to meet you at your laboratory, but you must do this."

* * *

The door to Dick's quarters opened without warning or a knock, Garth walking in with a neutral expression on his face as he looked at Dick, lying on the bed. He waited until the guard left the room and closed the door, leaving the two of them alone. He put his finger to his lips to stop any questions just yet then walked over to the small control console on the wall, turned a couple of buttons and waited a moment as music started. He turned it up then gestured Dick to come over to a corner away from any furniture. Leaning close to his friend, he spoke at a near whisper.

"Ballard is on his way back to Wood's Hole with a list of demand from Arthur. Kara is off planet with Clark dealing with some problem in the Horsehead Nebula and most of the most of the rest of the JLA is trying to cope with that tsunami in Southeast Asia."

"Meaning we're on our own?"

"Titans?"

"How can they help? C'mon, we're not exactly deep-sea divers; I mean other than you. And aren't they helping the JLA?"

Garth shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"You have an idea?"

"Maybe. Just sit tight, all right? Non e of the students have been hurt and Arthur has promised that they won't be…"

"You believe him?"

He nodded. "He's nuts, he isn't stupid."

"What is it he wants?"

Garth shook his head. "He says he wants trade and non-aggression agreements with every nation in the UN."

Dick snorted. "Like that's gonna happen…."

Garth put a hand on his arm. "No, he's right; we need the but them isn't the way to go about it. I think I can tone him down enough to possibly get what we want without upsetting the surface nations. Have you gotten ahold of Bruce? He's about the only Leaguer still in the US."

"I tried, can't get a signal."

"Okay, just wait for now. I'll let you know what's going on. Bob should be back home any minute and the letter to the surface will be delivered as soon as he gets there. Give them a day or so to respond and then we'll see. 'You need anything?"

Dick gave him a 'you kidding?' look.

"Okay, I'll be back soon, 'a couple of hours or so. Try to get some rest, you may need it."

* * *

"Your Majesty? Forgive me but one of the students from the surface is requesting an audience."

Garth looked up from the secure laptop he still had with him, the e-mails flying back and forth while he lined up his ducks in a row, as Alfred would say. At least he wasn't under house arrest, at least not yet, but he was ready for a break. "Show him in."

The door opened wider, "Garth? I hope I'm not disturbing you or anything…" Blair walked towards the desk where he was working.

He stood up, out of ingrained habit. "May I help you?"

She smiled, "I was hoping that maybe I could help you."

TBC

38


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**Chapter Five**

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm doing just fine, thank you." Garth gave Blair a small smile. He didn't have time for this and, frankly, he wasn't interested in a quickie with a girl he'd probably never lay eyes on again. On top of that, he was tired of dealing with the constant stream of kiss and tells in the surface tabloids. In and of themselves they were unimportant, of course, but they were a distraction when he was trying to accomplish real work. Not that he was opposed to a little 'recreation', of course; this just wasn't the time. What with the students being held hostage, Arthur being a bit difficult and the entire Justice League pretty unable to help, well this wasn't really the time.

"I could really help you take your mind off of all this. I really could." She pouted a bit, something Garth found annoying. He had little patience for game playing; Tula never indulged in that kind of foolishness and he was always happy about that. He preferred to connect with women, not spoiled children.

"I think my attention should stay on the business at hand for now."

"…Do you think Robin needs some relaxing, then?"

Garth laughed out loud at that. She was better than he'd thought; at least she had a sense of humor. "I think he's good, as well."

She dropped the act. "Yeah, well, I too a shot, okay? Are you angry—did I interrupt anything vital?"

He shook his head still smiling. "And that was the perfect break." He gestured her closer. "Do you really want to help?"

"Could I?" She finally assumed the demeanor of an intelligent young woman instead of a sorority girl on Spring Break.

"No one down here, well almost no one down here speaks or reads English. I could use help translating with what's coming in. You read or listen to things I give you, summarize them and then give them to me. It'll save time I don't have and then I can react faster to what's happening."

"Show me what you're working on." She sat down next to him, all business, he handed her a stack of e-mails and faxes and they got started.

* * *

"Garth, you're sure that this will work?" 

"I'm sure." He was on a private communicator to Bob enroute to Wood's Hole. The frequency was one the Atlantean scans wouldn't pick up and they were fairly safe talking for now.

"But I've never seen this used like this. I'm afraid that there may be consequences we haven't anticipated and…"

"It'll work, Bob, just give us a warning or…"

"I know, or there will be dead Atlanteans all over the place."

Garth knew what he was rising, but it was the only thing he could think of which they could get in place quickly, wouldn't kill anyone. That was assuming it worked the way it was supposed to—and which the locals and the Atlantean military wouldn't be expecting or have any major defense against. Of course if word was leaked they could simply destroy the ships and then all hell would break loose, Arthur would go ahead with what he'd started and, as Roy would say, they'd be screwed.

No, better to avoid that. It should work. It really should with minimum damage to anything or anyone. That was theory, but it all looked good and unless he'd seriously miscalculated, they should be back in control by this time tomorrow.

"This will work, Bob. You'll see."

"I hope you know what you're doing."

* * *

"Dick, is everything ready on this end?" 

He didn't even bother to open his eyes, just stayed where he was in the darkened room stretched out on the bed with the speaker phone or whatever it was, turned to just go through his earphones. Garth was on the other end whispering because—well, because if anyone found out what was being set in motion they'd all be fishfood faster than shit through a goose, as Roy was fond of saying. "It's good. Everything is set, just let me know when and we're good to go. I got the signal out through…" He stopped. No names, just in case. "I got the message out. The acknowledgement was received about half an hour ago."

"Any problems anticipated?"

Dick almost laughed. Problems? You want problems? Make a list and get in line, Tempest…"Nah, we're good."

* * *

"Dr. Ballard, sir! We've been so worried—your wife was just on the phone and said she was coming down here the second she heard you were spotted in the bay. Are you sure you're not hurt? I can have you checked if anything…" 

"I'm fine, thank you. Now I have some things to do in my office. Please see to it that I'm not disturbed, will you?"

"But Doctor, the press is calling and…"

"Just tell them I'm all right and will have a statement soon."

"In other words, 'no comment', right?"

"…For now, yes. Now if you'll excuse me and, Joan? Maybe someone could find me some strong coffee, black?"

He closed the door behind him and picked up the red phone, the secure one he used when he had things to discuss with the Joint Chiefs or the head of the Navy or someone like that. He got through quickly, patched through to the Admiral's home phone as soon as his assistant heard who was on the line.

"Jim, sorry to disturb you at home like this, but there's a situation I think you need to be aware of and I was hoping that you'd be able to lend a hand."

"Bob! I thought you were still out with that research tub you're so fond of. What's brought you back to dry land?" Admiral Jim Abrams was a surprisingly outgoing man for a senior Admiral with thirty years behind him, but he was good at his job and short of wasting time if he was on you side and you needed something.

"I need to borrow a boat, if you can spare one, that is."

"Just what kind of a boat are you talking about, Bobby? And just why is it you want one of ours when you have a marina full of your own?"

* * *

"I called Bruce and he's contacted the lab. It's being crated as we speak and should be ready for pick up inside of an hour or so." 

Garth was in Dick's assigned quarters under the pretense of making sure he was all right under the stress of being in confinement. The music was on and the guards were outside but they were whispering anyway. "Is there an estimated delivery time?"

"Close to midnight, local time."

"And it's all under tight security, no one knows, right?"

"Lucius is in charge, so no problem."

Garth nodded. He knew Dick had implicit faith in Fox and that was high reference, but Garth didn't know the man himself so he was worried. If what they were hoping to do got out nothing would stop Arthur short of a major intervention, probably involving a lot of people being killed.

"He'll do it, don't worry, Garth. If I thought there was a question I would have called in someone else to do it—there's no one better, that's why he's got the job. I'm telling you; he'll do it right."

Garth's expression was doubtful, but he didn't say anything, probably because there wasn't any point. It wold either work r it wouldn't. If it worked, then well and good. If it didn't then there was a good chance that Garth and a few others—okay, a lot of other people would be dead. It was pretty much out of their hands now, at least this part of the plan. They'd have their time—or Garth and his allies would, after the plan was set I motion. Robin and the college students were just along for the ride and hope they weren't caught in the middle.

* * *

"I'm just so scared—are they doing anything at all to get us out of here? I mean we're like hostages or something." 

"I know, I keep thinking about those poor people who were held in Iran back in like 1980or something. They were there for over a year. Can you imagine being in this creepy place for like a _year_?"

"Garth seems okay, but the rest of them—God!"

"Maybe we could rush them? There are never more than two or three guards in here at a time. We could jump them and then…"

"And then what, brain boy? Have you looked out the windows? Have you clued into where we are? You piss these guys off and you're sushi, dude."

* * *

"Captain, we're in position." 

"Is the device ready?"

"Yes sir, all we have to do is remove the crating."

"Please do so and have Dr. Ballard join us on the bridge." The ensign turned to follow orders. There was a big box, maybe ten feet on a side, lashed to the deck and no one knew what was in it who wasn't in the 'need to know' loop. A few of the seamen were starting on the crate with nail pullers and crowbars. Inside of about ten minutes it was dismantled and the weird looking machine it housed was out in the open.

"Doctor? What next?"

"We're on the coordinates?"

"Yes, sir. Dead on."

"Hoist the machine over the side to a depth of five fathoms. I'll be able to activate it from here as soon as it's in position."

The admiral gave him a wary look. "You know, I don't know as much about this thing as I'd like to and that makes me nervous. You want to tell me what's going to happen when you push the 'on' button?"

"I'm sorry, Admiral, but I'm limited as to how much I can discuss about this."

"Doctor, I appreciate that, but I'd like to know if this ship is in some kind of danger I might be able to prepare my crew for."

Behind the relatively mild words, Ballard knew was a man who wanted an answer and who, frankly, probably deserved one. "May we speak in private for a moment, sir?"

They went to the Captain's day cabin, adjacent to the bridge, closing the door behind them. "We're in position to set off a massive sonar ping aimed straight down to the bottom. We may repeat it two or three times. That's what that object is your men are deploying over the side."

"That doesn't look like any sonar unit I've ever seen—okay, point taken." The admiral tried to figure out why the hell they were doing this. "What the hell are we doing screwing around with sonar? Mapping of some kind? You looking for something I'm not supposed to know about?"

"That's the classified part, I'm afraid." No one was supposed to know where, exactly, Atlantis was located nor that their king—or one of their kings since they seemed to have several, was a member of the damn JLA— and was going around the bend.

"What's the possible danger to my ship?"

"Possible, though unlikely, retaliation."

The admiral wasn't a stupid man. He knew exactly whom they might be facing a response from and it scared the hell out of him. Atlantis was an enemy he wouldn't begin to know how to fight on their home playing field.

They returned to the bridge, the sonar device was over the side and ready to go, all Ballard had to do was sequence the program. Placing the control panel on the chart table he armed the thing, checked his watch, and waited exactly five minutes and thirty-seven seconds then pushed two buttons. Two minutes later he repeated the sequence, waiting.

* * *

It was like an explosion of white-hot pain slicing through their brains and down their spinal cords to sweep out to every cell in their bodies like a wave crashing up a delta and devastating everything it touched. 

Even Robin and the surface students felt the wave, like the air being forced out from some kind of explosion or like being dragged through the water when a big wave crashes into you and you're knocked off your feet. It's bigger and stronger than you are and you know that you're just along for the ride, hoping you're still okay when it stops.

Managing to look out the window of his suite, Robin saw people sprawled on the ground, floating lifelessly, holding their heads as if they'd just had an aneurysm explode in their brains. Men, women and children, it didn't matter. This thing was an equal opportunity leveler. Two minutes later another blast hit and the few people who'd been struggling to right them selves were knocked down again, maybe harder than the first hit. This time not many did anything other than just seem to lose consciousness.

Christ.

It reminded Dick of descriptions he'd heard of that bomb which leaves all the buildings standing but kills everyone in them. What was that called? He'd think of it but not this minute.

_This_ was the kind of thing Atlantean science was capable of?

Jesus.

And Garth let it loose on his own people? This was the best idea he and his flunkies could come up with to slow down, maybe stop Arthur? He was willing to kill of the population of Poseidonis to stop Arthur?

For the first time in the years he'd known Garth, after all the times they'd worked together, helped one another, covered one another's backs, talked through to dawn about everything on their minds. In all that time he'd never considered it possible that Garth would have this kind of cold-bloodedness in him. That he might be capable of, willing to kill.

* * *

"Another pulse, Admiral, please hold your position." 

"On your signal, Doctor."

Another sonic wave ripped downwards towards the city.

"Your Majesty, are you all right? Your Majesty?"

TBC

9


	6. Chapter 6

Warnings: some potty-mouth, but not much

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

* * *

**Chapter Six **

**  
**

"Your Majesty? Sir…are you all right?"

Arthur's personal aide was leaning over him as Arthur just barely managed to pry his eyes opened enough to see the man above him—who wasn't looking too far from this side of death himself. The King moved tentatively, trying to see how badly he was hurt through the pounding in his head and the excruciating tingling in his body. Just as he was about halfway to sitting up on the floor another blast, the third, slammed through them…

* * *

"Your Majesty? Sir…are you all right?" 

"Yes, thank you. I believe I'm unaffected; and you? Is everyone well?" Garth was in the soundproofed room in the fourth sub-basement of the palace along with eight of his most loyal aide and councilors.

"None of our people seems adversely impacted, M'lord. That was the third sonic wave; initial reports are that virtually everyone above us is unconscious, though the surface students seem to be less disoriented than our own citizens."

"How long do we have?" They were already moving quickly through the hallways and passages to the upper levels and their goals, ignoring the people lying on the ground other than to spare them a quick glance.

"We estimate approximately half an hour before they regain consciousness and at least that long before they're ready to function at any threat level."

"King Orin should be in his own quarters, our second unit is meeting us there, are they not?"

"They're on their way, M'lord."

"Good, and the rest of our forces?"

"Also following their instructions, we should have the city secured in minutes, sir."

"Good." They were at Arthur's door, which was ajar. Everyone they'd passed so far was either completely unconscious or close enough as to be of no concern.

* * *

Well' Doctor, what do we do now?" 

"We wait, Admiral. We wait and we watch."

"Maintain the crew on full alert and at battle stations."

"Aye, sir." The surface was calm, the sky clear. There was no hint of what was happening more than a mile below.

* * *

"Garth, Garth—are you there?" 

"Yes, what do you need, Dick—are you unharmed?" He spoke loudly enough that the communicator could pick up his voice without him having to use his hands. They were in the king's private quarters, Arthur's guards tied and King Orin himself locked in an inner section of the extensive suite and under a medical guard. He wouldn't be harmed, assuming that he cooperated, but his reign was over. He'd find out as soon as he was in a condition to absorb the news, as would the section of his guard and army that were personally loyal to either him or the current government. They would be given the choice of swearing allegiance to the new sovereign or deal with consequences; it was their decision, though few would be naïve enough to not understand the implications. Atlantis hand it's rulers hadn't survived as long as they had by being weak or sentimental.

"I think I'm okay, where are you? Are you all right?"

"We're unaffected by the waves and in the Royal Chambers. Everything seems to be going according to plan, the king is unharmed and cooperative."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Dick was in his Titans leader mode and frustrated that he was just sitting, waiting. It was a position he was used to from working with the Bat, but not one he'd ever really become comfortable with. He dealt better being in with action that being a reserve.

"If you could check on the students and make sure they're not injured, reassure them, that would be a help." Garth sounded distracted, too busy to take the time for this right now. Dick cut communications, probably to his relief.

Christ—what Garth had arranged and was in the process of carrying out was probably a capital offense—treason, malfeasance, a crime against the state, tantamount to attempted regicide. He could probably be hanged—or whatever they did in Poseidonis to criminals.

If this didn't work, Garth could count his life expectancy in hours, or that would be Robin's guess, anyway. But Garth was smart, a lot smarter than he was usually given credit for and he knew about politics and power—he was born to it, the latest in a royal line stretching back at least eight or nine thousand years. This stuff was in his blood, it was his heritage and, if you wanted to but it that way, it was his family business. He was good at this. If anyone could pull this off, it would be Garth.

If anyone could pull this off, that is. But Arthur was…Arthur.

* * *

"Shit, man—what the frig _was_ that?" 

"Hell if I know; it was like a sound wave or something. 'Hell if I know." The students were trying to figure out what had just happened and hadn't a clue. One of the young men tried knocking tentatively at the door out to the corridor, the one that had a guard on it a few minutes ago. There was no answer and, with some trepidation, he pushed the door open just a bit—enough to see the man's body slumped on the floor less than two feet from his post and a small trickle of blood coming from is ear.

"Isn't Robin's room right around here somewhere?" He'd help—he had to help, he was a Titan for the love of God.

"Probably, how many rooms can they have without water down here? Let's knock on some doors."

About half of the kids started off in search of Robin's room, the rest choosing to stay in the perceived safety of their rooms and now wanting to anger their 'hosts'. Rounding a corner, they saw Robin, still in jeans, a tee shirt and his mask coming towards them. He looked unhurt and wasted little time when he got to them.

"Is everyone all right? No one injured?"

"…We're good—what happened?"

"Garth arranged for a couple of sonic waves to gain control of the situation. He's in with King Orin now and we're supposed to stay here. He's going to make sure you're all released as soon as they can."

"Where's Blair?"

Robin looked a question at the boy who asked, obviously he had no idea who she was.

"She was the girl ho was hanging around…"

"She was the one making a pass at Garth? She was in his quarters helping him a little while ago." He saw knowing glances exchanged. "I doubt it—he's practically celibate. I'm sure she's fine." He pulled out his communicator. "Garth? Blair—she okay?"

The answer came through with heavy static. "She fine, she's in the VIP suite. Look I'm kind of busy right now, all right?" The line was cut.

"Okay, let's all go back to one of the rooms and wait. We're all going to be fine."

* * *

"Seth—call in our forces, have them move now. Inaugurate the plans." 

"Done, M'lord."

Garth stood just to the side of the large picture windows in Arthur's private suite, the ones overlooking the city. He could just see the Sheyarian ships approach, make their predetermined docking ports and off load the soldiers he'd ordered to stand by, just outside the reach of Poseidonis' scans in ships carrying special shielding to bounce the sonar waves back and not absorb them. The soldiers and their officers were fine and ready to go. The men moved fast, knowing they'd only have the advantage for another half hour or so before the local guards were recovered enough to resist.

Their assignment, their orders were to secure the city with a minimum of violence and a no kill policy unless in imminent threat of their lives—and King Garth had made it clear that he'd personally review any such cases. Violations would be dealt with in the harshest possible terms. None of the locals were to be harmed. None of Arthur's soldiers or personal guard were to be hurt, unless there was absolutely no other choice.

His orders were carried out to the letter. It wasn't so much that King Garth was so much loved—though he was—it was because his men understood that to unite two unfriendly cities would be easier for them without having to overcome the added resentment of unnecessary deaths. Besides, there were still blood ties between the two populations going back generations and they had no wish to fight brother against brother.

Garth was, if nothing else, a practical man. It was a large reason he would make a good ruler.

* * *

"Release the students and Robin as a good will gesture and make sure that there are press around when they're set free." 

"Yes, M'lord." The surface ships, including the one carrying Bob Ballard, were informed that the student ambassadors, as well as Robin would be returned to the surface ships within the next hour, unharmed and in good health.

The media were sent a copy of the order, as well as the designated time and place of their arrival back in the US. They could be expected at Gotham harbor tomorrow evening at seven, local time. Any of their immediate family would be flown there at Atlantean expense to welcome them home, if desired.

* * *

"But what do you mean you're going to unite the two cities and rule them both? You've been saying every since I've known you that you'd never accept a throne." 

Garth and Robin were alone in the former King Orin's suite, now being used by the new King Garth the third. Blair had been thanked with a chaste kiss on the cheek and would, both Dick and Garth were certain, cash in with a book as soon as a contract was signed. "Things have changed. Needs changed. I've changed."

"But you don't want to do this, you said…"

Garth held up his hand. "That doesn't matter now."

"But you despise the idea of ruling, that's what you've always said, especially after what happened to your parents. Why are you doing this? C'mon, Garth, this is me you're talking to. What's really going on?"

Garth was resting against a bureau of some kind, Arthur was under sedation and likely would remain so for a long time. The vast majority of King Orin's guard and army had sworn allegiance to the new king. He gave a quick glance at the door, it was closed and he knew from experience that thee room wasn't bugged. Arthur had been adamant about that.

"It's been increasingly apparent that Arthur was becoming unstable, that he was becoming a danger to himself and, more importantly, to the nation. We knew something had to be done and so we—I arranged a solution." It was dispassionate, concise, logical.

Robin, sans mask, stared at him. "How long ago did you start planning?"

"About a year."

What the fuck? "You _knew_, when Kara came to get you off that ship, that this would happen."

"Of course."

"But…did Kara know? Did Kal or the rest of the JLA?"

Garth met his astonishment calmly. "No, this was an internal matter. There was no need to involve outsiders."

"But Wayne Enterprises supplied that machine and Ballard…" In his life, Dick would never have thought Garth capable of this.

"That sonar pulse generator was ordered three years ago for use in extreme deep sea mapping projects and Bob didn't know anything about this. He simply agreed to help after the students were made hostages."

"You used all of us but—now you're king. I thought you'd never agree…"

"I did what I had to." The words were spat out before he had a chance to top himself then Garth paused a moment to collect himself. "Rob—Dick, I was born to fill a position and with that position comes responsibility. My responsibility is to lead and protect my people and my nation to the best of my ability and, whether or not I like it; it's what I was born to do. Arthur was a danger, he had to be removed for the greater good, just as this is now my life and the role I fulfill—for the greater good."

"What happens to Arthur now?" Looking at Garth sitting there now, he almost expected to hear that Orin was already trued and convicted with the sentence already carried out.

"That depends on a number of things. I'll see."

The king is dead, long live the king.

There was a soft knock as the door opened. An assistant came in, bowing and addressing Garth. "Sir, Your Majesty, the transport is here for the surface students and" He hesitated as he looked at Dick. "And your friend." Garth nodded with a soft 'thank you' in his own language as the man withdrew.

"I'm sorry that you're disappointed, Dick. We did what we had to."

Dick stood to leave; he took the few steps to the door. "I wish you well with it." He felt like he was talking to a complete stranger, someone he'd never met and might well never see again.

"Thank you." It was almost an afterthought. But then, Garth always did have good manners.

2/12/07

8


End file.
